


Midnight

by marauder01



Series: Dreamland [1]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe, Dead Lucius, Don't Like Don't Read, Dumbledore Bashing, F/F, F/M, M/M, Slash, Slow Build, Slow To Update, but worth it though, seriously so slow - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-04-04
Updated: 2018-04-04
Packaged: 2019-04-16 20:54:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,227
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14173188
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/marauder01/pseuds/marauder01
Summary: Sirius is gone and it hurts. It hurts so much. Remus doesn't know how to breathe, how to carry on.Voldemort arrived at James and Lily's that fateful night but events took a very different turn. Somehow, Remus still ended up alone. Alone and distraught. Sirius is gone and nothing can change that.





	1. Loss of a lifetime

**Author's Note:**

  * For [the angel I lost](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=the+angel+I+lost).



> this is so so slow. but here goes nothing // hope you enjoy!

Remus awoke gasping, air rushing through his lungs, hair standing on ends. He jumped up, leaping from beneath the covers, sweat rivulets trailing down his back, hands running through his hair. Even the faint chill from the open window did nothing to cool his burning body. A passerby might've seen a restless man, seen the faint silhouette of someone leaning his face against the cool glass, might've even noticed the hunched, wretched form of an exhausted man, but only the figure in his dreams could've seen the depth of despair in the man’s eyes. Only the figure in his dreams would've noticed the too deep bags etched permanently into his face, and the trail of tears sliding down his cheek.

Nightmares. They're funny things, often based on fiction. Unrealistic and maybe a little frightening; the dream Remus had had was so very much worse. He had been dreaming of the last few days...

_The morning was peaceful, quiet. Remus could feel the warmth of Sirius' body against his own, could feel their loosely tangled limbs, and smiled against the back of Sirius' head. There were few mornings like this nowadays, the war was a black hole looming behind every word, every look. With Remus so often away on 'special orders' and Sirius all over the continent fulfilling his duties as Hit Wizard, they had so few nights together. So few opportunities to rest._

_Remus felt Sirius shift slightly beneath him and he smiled against the back of his lover’s head, inhaling the slightly forest-y smell he always associated with Padfoot. Sirius groaned a little beneath his breath and Remus grinned, nuzzling his head into the crook of Sirius' neck, "Morning Pads."_

_Sirius shifted, turning to face him. His breath-taking grin undid Remus, as it did every time he saw it, and he felt content settle into his stomach- the feeling so rarely present. Sirius frowned a little next to him and leant forward to kiss Remus' forehead, "You're thinking too hard alreadyyyy Moons, relax.” He smiled, ‘We're together."_  

_Remus rolled his eyes playfully but grinned, "I have to think for the both of us, since you forget to most of the time."_

_Sirius grinned wickedly, his lips curving into a delightfully devilish grin and hands trailing down Remus bare chest, "Oh my dear Moony, you really are going to have to pay for that comment."_

Remus drew in a ragged breath, the memory feeling like a lifetime ago. A sob racked though his body and he collapsed to the floor, defeated. He closed his eyes, not even trying to escape the pain- instead embracing it, wanting it. He'd done everything, every single thing he thought might bring Sirius back, but nothing, nothing at all, besides that Sirius which would've abhorred, could be done. And yet maybe he'd deserved it, how could he have thought the spy was Sirius all those months ago? He deserved this pain, he deserved everything he got. He'd failed them all. The hard wood beneath his body dug into Remus' bony frame, and at long last he broke down, sobbing without abandon. The tears fell, and his body shook, the furniture about the room wildly clattering, the storm outside covering the noise of uncontrolled despair.

Frank, Alice, Marlene, James, Lily, Sirius. All gone- or destroyed beyond salvation.

His nails dug into the floor, trying to replace the endless hole in his soul with physical pain. His nails cracked and bled, and the tears carried on falling. If he'd tried to speak, he'd have found there was no voice left to use, the shudders coursing through his body so violent they'd scratched his throat raw.

Why him? Why was he the only one left? Remus silently begged for answers, knowing deep in his heart that he'd never find the answers. Slowly he got up, vowing never to love again, vowing never to allow himself to become as vulnerable as Sirius god-damned Black had made him. Remus dropped into the bed, not caring to find a comfortable position, not caring about the fresh bruises that covered his body. The void in his soul was the only thing he could think about as he dropped into a deep restless sleep.

 

...

 

The morning was quiet, no remnants of sorrow or joy from the night before. Just a quiet calm that hadn't been present in the Wizarding World for a long, long time. Almost everyone was asleep, in fact only a single soul was awake to see the sun rise, only a single person awake to wander through the eerily still village of Godric's Hollow. Celebrations of the great Harry Potter and the demise of Voldemort had lasted for what seemed like years, though it had only been a night. Even the perpetually scheming Dumbledore had relented.

It maddened the lone witch wandering though the silence.

Minerva shook her head slightly, half wondering how people had the audacity to be so happy, not when a brave young man had given his wife and son time, not when a brilliant young with had sacrificed herself in a final, desperate attempt to save her beautiful young boy. But of course, people had survived, and they'd celebrated as she supposed they deserved to.

Some places however, had not been joyous. In one home Andromeda Tonks had howled into the night, collapsing onto the ground, guttural noises coming from her throat. Ted Tonks had run from the garden, with a speed he didn’t know he’d possessed, to find the remnants of a Patronus message dissipating. He’d burst forward tugging his wife to him, gently taking hold of her wrists and kissing her forehead. “Who? Who was it, my love?” He’d repeated it over and over, for what seemed like hours, until little Nymphadora (who had been hiding on the stairs) came forward and whispered, “Sirius, Daddy. Sirius said, ‘I love you’ to Mama and ‘I’m sorry I haven’t seen you in so long, I wish there’d been more time.’ He said that he loved me too Daddy. Why can’t he come and tell me that?” Little Dora took a deep breath, her voice trembling as she emerged from the corner, and drew her watery eyes up to a crumpling Ted, “Where is Sirius, Daddy?” Andromeda had whimpered again, knowing she couldn’t answer, knowing she must. Ted shook his head slowly, muttering slowly under his breath “I don’t believe it.” He’d forced himself up, heart stumbling, and picked up his beautiful daughter, holding her tight and whispered into her ear, soothing as much as he could. Moments later Andromeda had picked herself up, dried her tears and wrapped her arms around her shaken husband and her too-old seven-year-old.

In another house, Augusta Longbottom had dropped onto her sofa, as a letter appeared beside her. Augusta Longbottom was not an emotional woman, but as she read the letter Lily Potter had made sure the woman would receive if she’d died too soon, Augusta had inhaled sharply, a feeling like none other she’d ever felt, coursed through her veins. A hand clasped Augusta’s mouth as she released a devastated sigh, the other hand stroking her precious Neville’s delicate forehead. In that moment it was all Augusta could do not to fall apart at the thought of Alice and Frank suffering the same despicable fate.

But Minerva did not know of this, nor did she know of how Remus Lupin had torn through hell and earth only to arrive and see his beloved fall to the ground, she did not know how many wizards Remus had taken down after the last breath faded from Sirius’ lungs, and she did not know how Remus had crucio’d Peter Pettigrew before the death eaters fell. She did not know how Lily had begged the Dark Lord to spare her son; she did not how very much sacrifice had occurred the night before.

But Minerva McGonagall did know who she was truly, and so she steeled herself, not allowing her grief to consume her, not even for a minute. She would not think of all the previous students that had been lost, she would not think of the hundreds of brave witches and wizards that had given their lives to try and make a difference, and she absolutely would not think about how she had struggled to rise out of bed this morning, how she had collapsed to the ground when she had found a last desperate letter from James and Lily, begging her to look after their adoring son if they managed to defeat the blasted bastard once and for all. Pulling herself up to her full height, Minerva stood proud and tall and determined. Harry James Potter **would** have the best life she could provide for him, she **would** do everything in her power to keep him safe and she vowed, as she stood in front of the wretched cottage that had once been a haven for the Potters, she vowed that James and Lily Potter had not given their lives in vain. A single tear was allowed to trail down her cheek as she stood before the white picket fence, and Minerva McGonagall felt a slight wind stir her crooked witches hat. A wind that smelt of lily flowers and broom polish.

The witch had bowed her head and smiled a tearful smile before plucking a single flower from the bed by the fence. It would remind her for the rest of her days, of just how proud she was of her former students. But Minerva McGonagall did not stay for long for she had a son to find.

A few seconds later a loud crack could be heard throughout the village and the witch had disappeared entirely from view.

 


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The truth of how Voldemort fell is told by an unlikely source and Minerva officially takes Harry, Remus unknowingly falls into further despair.

St Mungo's had never been her favourite place, it held many memories for her and not all of them pleasant. In fact, the few times Minerva had been compelled to appear in the building were mostly down to her husband. His last few months had been hard. But Minerva was nothing if not resilient, and she knew her husband would not have wanted to her to wallow after his death, so she had tried her hardest to live for the both of them. Twenty years later she did not think she had done too badly, even in the midst of a war, but that was over and Minerva was determined to move past it.

Taking a deep breath, Minerva smiled tightly at the Medi-Witch on the desk as she moved to the front of the queue and carefully took note of the witches and wizards in the lobby, recognising, with sadness, a great many faces. The solemn faced witch lifted her gaze to Minerva, who took that as a notion to speak. "Good morning, I understand there is a certain person Head Healer Robins is seeing to?" Minerva spoke quietly to the young witch with far too many lines in her face. The witch sat up a little straighter, her trained eye running once over Minerva, and then nodded "I'll page Healer Robins right away. If you would wait over there for a few moments." A light smile graced Minerva's face as she moved out of the queue and into the direction the Medi-Witch had pointed towards. As she waited, Minerva surveyed the lobby and on seeing a copy of the Daily Prophet, a terrible frown appeared on her face. On the front page was a list of names, a list that seemed endless, a list starting with James and Lily Potter, followed by the names Sirius Black, Fabian Prewett, Marlene McKinnon, Mary McDonald, Edgar Bones and many more she recognised. The paper seemed to rejoice far too much in the heroics of war, than focus on the terrible losses the Wizarding World had suffered.

So lost in the hundreds of names, Minerva did not see Healers Robins until he was but a few steps away from her. She looked up to see a tall, dark-skinned wizard with a mop of hazelnut hair and an intelligent face. The wizard shook his head, his voice pained, "Too many were lost, too many injured and too little healers. It will be a long time yet before the Wizarding world is healed. Please, follow me Mistress McGonagall." 

Minerva nodded and followed the healer, thinking of the dark shadows beneath his eyes and the tired tension in his posture. As they walked the Healer spoke and smiled slightly, "I fear I must perform a few security tests before I allow you to take charge of our young patient, as I do not believe I- or any healer under my hand- would feel content if Lily Potter's son was to be placed into the wrong hands. I knew her you see.” Minerva nodded stiffly, wondering how the wizard knew Lily- how the wizard _had_ known Lily, Minerva corrected herself sharply. The two walked swiftly through the hospital, passing an endless stream of strained Healers and a countless number of desolate patients. No one had come through the war unscathed Minerva thought, with a heavy heart indeed.

A magical lift appeared, and Healer Robins pressed a combination of buttons on his healer’s tablet, fingers nimbly working the magic. As he worked, keying the lift to a personal floor, otherwise inaccessible, nerves began to pool in Minerva’s bones- not that she would ever admit it. The closer she got to Harry James Potter, the worse the feeing became, until Minerva McGonagall was forced to admit that she was terrified. Completely and utterly terrified. She forgot about the Healers strange disposition and the even stranger scars that peeked through the tops of his immaculate robes. Not even the skills she had picked up as a spy for the aurors’ could calm her, granted she had been in her animagus form at the time but still.

The lift came to an abrupt stop, pulling both witch and wizard from their thoughts as quickly as the ‘ding’ sounded to announce their arrival. Stepping out of the small space, Minerva turned to find Healer Robins looking down the corridor with what seemed to be a thinly veiled anger. And then she heard it- clump, step, clump. Clump, step, clump.

Alastor Moody rounded a corner, nodding to the stiff Healer at Minerva’s side before addressing Minerva herself. “Professor, glad you’re here. If you won’t mind producing your Patronus?”

Minerva herself understood the importance of security- Merlin knows what she would do if Harrys security was compromised because of her, but she still rankled at having to perform a Patronus in the middle of an unfamiliar corridor. Shaking herself and trying hard as she might to push away her grief from the past few days, Minerva recalled exasperated afternoons discussing Black and Potters’ latest antics in the staffroom at Hogwarts, remembered the awe on James’ face and the joy on Lily’s as they'd told their former head of year that Lily was expecting, remembered the day she herself had married her husband and slowly through all the loss she felt past joy.. “ _EXPECTO PATRONUM”_

Three speckled tabbies burst from the tip of Minerva’s wand, and she felt a feline satisfaction deep in her heart. She raised an eyebrow to Moody, still reeling slightly, “Was that satisfactory?” and swept away into the only visible door in the room.

Collecting herself in the overflowing room, Minerva hadn’t noticed Healer Robins until he waved his wand and a tartan patterned chair appeared by the witch’s feet. His voice was gentle, and yet rippling with well concealed power, “I can understand how a Patronus may have unsettled you. You will not be aware but the ability to send a Patronus message as it were, was of my own discovery. With a little help from the illustrious Sirius Black.” His lip quirked up a little at the confession and Minerva found herself intrigued as to how deeply Healer Robins was connected to the makeshift family the Marauders had created.

Before she could speak however Healer Robins interjected, “If I may…” and placed a very range of particularly complex obscuring charms to ensure anything said couldn’t be heard from the doorway, let alone from outside the room. Curiously Minerva focused her attention on the singular piece of parchment on the mahogany desk in front of her and felt her lip turn up despite the past few days. She had not encountered blood spell-work for a long while but knew of Lily’s brief fascination with it. In turn Minerva and the healer performed the necessary spell and watched as a few drops of blood fell from their index fingers, confirming that they were indeed Minerva McGonagall and Matheus Luciano Robins.  

The healer nodded once to himself and then drew in a breath, a sudden tension wrapped around the room and Minerva prepared herself for the oncoming confession. Oh yes, she could sense when someone was about to share their deepest secrets.

Clearing his throat Healer Robins spoke with urgency and authority, “I will ask you not to speak until I finish for there is a long story to be told and not much time at all. My dear friend Sirius was betrayed, attacked in the worst possible way and his death will haunt me for a very long time. You see after James and Lily went into hiding, Sirius was to be their secret keeper- after all who did they trust more? I know you are familiar of the family Sirius had built himself- he and James were inseparable from the moment they met, he and Remus were more in love than anyone _I’ve_ ever met. But you will also know of how brave and loyal my friend was- Sirius reasoned that he was likely to be captured in his line of duty, he knew of the torture he would suffer, and he didn’t want there to be even a slight chance that his secrets could be stolen from him. He begged James to choose another to be secret keeper, someone else that they trusted implicitly, and they both made their most foolish mistake. Peter Pettigrew.”

A visible darkening appeared in the Healers chocolate brown eyes and he seemed to collect himself before continuing. “Yesterday a battle broke out, Peter gave up the Potters’ location to a few **fellow** death eaters by _accident_ , the most incompetent fool to ever have lived. You see Peter Pettigrew was the spy in the Order’s ranks. The death eaters immediately apparated to Godric’s Hollow, inadvertently tripping off untraceabale wards on the Potters house. Voldemort flew into a rage as his followers flocked to Godric’s Hollow and were mowed down by the Aurors. A ferocious abattle broke out, and many of those on the front page of The Prophet died only last night.” The wizard shook his head scathingly, “So much unnecessary death. Alas at the end of the battle Peter Pettigrew was found petrified, tortured and half-mad. I believe he was surrounded by many Light wizards after his curse knocked down our Mr Black. The utter betrayal of the magical vows Peter took as a Marauder broke the fidelus charm- a charm which relies on trust and secrecy, and the Potters’ cottage became visible to everyone in the vicinity. Voldemort went into the cottage and began to duel with James, giving Lily bare moments to perform a spell that would protect Harry, even if she did not survive. But there was no time for her to even attempt to escape with Harry, the death eaters were too close. And so she made the ultimate sacrifice and ended the battle. She gave her life in duel and that imbued the spell she’d performed on her precious son. As Voldemort went to curse Harry, as he went to finish the job, his killing curse rebounded on the magical shield Lily had created, Voldemort’s soul was shattered, he was ripped from his body and banished from existence. The uncontrollable power eruption caused by the rebound coursed through all those with the dark mark, every single death eater collapsed on the battlefield, in the ministry, and even those still hiding behind claims of alliance. Every single one of Voldemort’s followers fell. And not a single Healer, here at St Mungos or otherwise, can do anything to stop the random wild spikes of dark magic that possess those with the dark mark every so often.”

The healer stopped speaking, his voice slowly drawing to silence with only the sound of deep breaths from both himself and Minerva. Minerva shook her head once, “I don’t … I, Peter?”

The wizard nodded once, “It is a shock to you I’m sure. Now you see how closely our allies must be watched, you cannot trust in good intentions during war. The wizarding world, Harry’s world, will not be healed for a long time. It needs to heal though. You must be strong enough to protect and expose Harry, he will be famous for his entire life, people will love and hate him for what happened. I know you are capable Professor, I know you can raise him as he deserves to be raised. But I will offer you a singular piece of advice, I do not trust in words and I do not trust Headmaster Dumbledore to put Harry’s wellbeing before that of the wizarding worlds’: neither should you. It is your duty to raise Harry as a child, a happy one.”

Minerva nodded seriously, not liking the advice the healer was offering, but knowing in her Gyrffindor heart it was invaluable, and a valid concern. As the war had dragged on, Albus had become almost … distant- seeing sacrifice, and the unnecessary loss of wizards and witches as unavoidable. “I can promise you Healer Robins, as I have vowed to Lily and James, Harry James Potter will be safe with me, and I will honour their sacrifice until my last breath leaves me.”

The healer nodded, seeing her words as absolute truth and drew himself to his full height, he flicked his wand at the wall to Minerva’s right and then laid his palm flat against it. A brilliant wave of iridescent light rippled through the room, from corner to corner and then the wall fell away disappearing into thin air. Minerva lifted her hand to her mouth, standing sharply as she saw a beautiful toddler fast asleep in Remus Lupin’s arms. Lupin’s head shot up at the sound of intrusion, body automatically defensive until he met Minerva’s eyes. A multitude of emotions swept through Minerva and her step caught. She forced herself forwards and brushed a curl of jet black hair from the sleeping child’s head, fingers catching at the shock-red lightning bolt scar on Harry’s forehead.  Lupin barely smiled, heart constricting painfully at Lily’s eyes as Harry opened his ownt o look at Minerva, before handing Harry to the witch.

“I would advise you to leave now, before it is discovered where the hero of this generation is located,” Healer Robins spoke up.

Remus cleared his throat and spoke in an almost unrecognisable voice, “I have placed every piece of defensive magic from my knowledge,” he looked inconsolably pained and his voice shook as he very softly spoke again, “there were a few spells I found too that S-Sirius had placed on our flat. No one will be able to find your house now.”

Minerva nodded, her shock at the mess Remus had become barely hidden and made her mind up in an instant. “Let us go then Remus.”

Remus’ eyes snapped open and voice terse, “I – I don’t,” He closed his eyes once, and took a deep breath. He must’ve seen the challenge in Minerva’s eyes, for a brief flash of emotion ran through his eyes and he silently led the way towards a floo passage at the back of the nursery.

Healer Robins whispered something to the desolate man, shaking his hand once before Remus John Lupin disappeared into the floo, a worried Minerva following a half-second later.

…

Remus did not know what, exactly, to do with himself. He did not want to eat, or drink, or shower. He did not want to think. In a tiny not-quite-rational part of his brain, he knew that werewolves could survive indefinitely without food, and for three days without water. But he was not thinking about how stupid that was, he was not thinking about anything. He knew he ought to get up, he knew Minerva was worried for him, he knew Harry needed him. God, Harry needed him more than anyone.

Remus shook himself, he wasn’t going to let himself feel that. He wasn’t going to get angry he was going to be polite, mild-mannered Remus Lupin. Because that’s who Harry needed. He was going to be empty and alone, inside. He could handle that, because it was so much better than the alternative. And so allowing a singular wave of despair, allowing a moment where it felt like the entire world had come crashing down on his shoulders and he’d never be able to get up, he stood and pushed away every single piece of shit feeling he could.  He was not alone, he was not.

So Remus stood and he wandered from the floor, he would live and breathe, he would.

All of it for Harry.

For James

For Lily.

And most of all for Padfoot.

 


End file.
